It’s June, my little jitterbugs. It’s the happiest (handclap) clappiest (handclap) time of the year. Beach time. Pool time. Free-to-be-a-fool time. (Mark your calendars.) Are you singing? Why aren’t you singing? Sing to me, my angels of music. Better yet, swing this junebug into the nearest parking lot and tell me the truth, the way […]
On any given morning, we may find that the world is large and looks like an angry finger-painting. This is when we’re grateful that Tabby’s Place is a world within the world.
Take it from Lucy: today’s a good day to ride the ecliptic. It’s not like you have much choice. Which means you have one choice.
Holy moly, humans. We’re a holey bowl of needers, aren’t we? Fragile doilies. Patchwork jeans. Slim slices of Swiss. But we are surrounded by creatures who consider themselves the living equivalents of chunk cheese. They are more than happy to patch our holes with melty mercy.
Cats do not entertain our view of failure. This is appropriate, since no cat since the dawn of the species has experienced a single failure.
Where did you come by it? You know you have it. It’s the fire in your belly. It’s the lilac in your garden. It’s the Zebra Cake in your pantry. It’s — although you would never personally use this expression for it — your “overabundance of empathy.” It’s your greatest strength, your greatest trial, and […]
She has come to the riverside. She has run free and naked from her armor. She ain’t gonna study war no more.
My cantaloupe Casanova, I should have known you’d break my heart. Being the color of gold bullion was not enough to keep you in the Development Department. You were always bound for greater things.
The latch has not closed. The ink has not dried. The Sketch is still in process.
Dancing girl, you are the first of your kind. You have everybody talking, twitching, asking. Your answer to every question is “yes.”